


Harsh

by claudia603



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-16
Updated: 2010-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 23:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudia603/pseuds/claudia603
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frodo can't bear it alone on Caradhras.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harsh

When Frodo slipped and fell on an icy boulder that jutted out of the glistening snow, he had the sickening knowledge that he would lose the baby. He had striven so hard to hide his swollen belly from the company, and since leaving Rivendell, it had been surprisingly easy. Given the blustery wind that kept a constant bite to the air, it had been easy to wear so many layers that his middle was left completely concealed.

The small of his back hit another rock and he slid backwards through the ice, letting out a cry of frustration.

"Frodo!" Aragorn ran to him, his face pale with concern. He reached the prone hobbit and held his shoulders down. "Stay still. Don't try to move." The rest of the company watched in frozen concern. Sam threw Bill's reins to Pippin to hold and ran back down to Frodo, huffing and puffing. "Mr. Frodo! Are you all right, sir?"

"I think," Frodo said, starting to sit up. "I am all right. Do not worry about me." He was dizzy and shaken from the fall, but so far, he felt no pain. His cloak slid from his belly, and Aragorn gasped as he looked upon it.

Frodo met Aragorn's gaze, cheeks burning.

"You…" Aragorn said in a distressed tone. "How did Elrond not –"

"Elrond saved it. My wound at Weathertop nearly caused me to lose it..." Frodo broke off, biting his lip against a wicked cramp that gripped his middle. "I begged him not to reveal it."

"It is folly that he allowed you on this quest…" He kept his voice low, and nobody but Sam heard a word of it. "He should know better."

Frodo had barely been showing when he had awakened in Rivendell. Yes, at that time, only four months had passed since he had slipped away from Hobbiton and into the woods at the border of the Shire and met the Ranger Halbarad. Halbarad was lonely, Frodo was restless and curious, and one thing had led to another. By his birthday, the day Frodo had fled Hobbiton, Frodo had known that something very unnatural had happened during the zesty summer nights he had spent under the stars, wrapped in a bristly blanket that smelled of deer blood, thick muscled arms wrapped tightly around his midsection.

"He should never have allowed you on this quest."

"What ails Frodo?" Gandalf had joined Sam and Aragorn.

Aragorn met Gandalf's eyes before glancing deliberately at Frodo's belly. Gandalf's eyes widened. "Oh. So it is." He chuckled suddenly, and Frodo was suddenly annoyed. His clothes were soaked through from lying in a nest of snow, he was cramping in an alarming manner, and Aragorn – dear Aragorn – was no doubt utterly repulsed by his condition.

"I had thought I sensed a tenth song, weak and growing. So it is!"

"How can this be?" Aragorn asked, gesturing toward Frodo's belly. "I had heard of such things among the elves-"

Gandalf became serious. "Remember what he bears," he said nearly inaudibly.

A more insistent cramp took his midsection, squeezing with much more vigor. Snowflakes had begun to fall like white spitting embers, stinging Frodo's face.

"We must get him somewhere safe," Aragorn said. He absent-mindedly rubbed Frodo's belly as he looked up the snow-blurred craggy path ahead.

"Curse this mountain," Gandalf said.

"Is the Halfling injured?" Boromir's voice was pleasant, but Frodo did not wish him to know what was going on. He already thought it was ridiculous that a soft hobbit from the Shire with no weapon training was taking the Ring into Mordor.

Frodo groaned as another pain took him.

"Yes," Aragorn said, gathering Frodo suddenly in his arms and lifting him. He wrapped his own cloak around him, and as Frodo took in the scent of the Ranger's cloak, with a pang, he remembered his last evening with Halbarad.

"This must end tonight," Halbarad had said, gripping Frodo's shoulders. "I cannot stand to hurt you."

"Then why are you pushing me away?" Frodo had answered. "There is no reason we cannot continue. This does not hurt me."

"I cannot give you want you need, dearest." He had squeezed Frodo's shoulders, his eyes faraway.

"I need very little," Frodo had answered, his chin stiff with pride.

"I know," Halbarad's smile became sad, and he had looked down. "But I could not give you even that. I am a Ranger of the wild, duty bound to wander the wild alone. I cannot stay here, dear Frodo, and forfeit duty because you warm my bed."

Frodo had said no more. He had simply climbed to his feet and walked away.

"Frodo…" Halbarad had called weakly, but there had been no conviction in his voice and Frodo had not looked back.

Now as he smelled Aragorn's cloak, he wanted to weep.

"We must find shelter at any rate from this storm," Aragorn said.

"Up the path farther," Boromir said. "It appears there is a sheer wall that might block the wind."

Pippin and Merry shivered miserably, still holding Bill's reigns.

"Is he all right?" Pippin asked as Aragorn approached, holding Frodo.

"He is all right for now," Aragorn said. When he saw the fear in the younger hobbits' eyes, he managed a soft smile. "How well do you know your cousin?"

Pippin raised his eyebrows. "Better than anyone, right, Merry?"

"As well as anyone could know him," Merry said. "He's very close, cousin Frodo is."

"Better that I not say anything yet."

Merry and Pippin looked at each other. Frodo managed a muffled laugh, as he was certain Aragorn did not quite understand his danger. There was no way his cousins would allow such a puzzling hint to go without explanations. Merry and Pippin would relentlessly torture the unfortunate Ranger until they got to the bottom of it.

Once at the shelter, Aragorn took off his cloak with one free hand, still holding Frodo with the other arm. He set the cloak over the cold snowy ground and then gently placed Frodo on the cloak.

 

***

A mighty cramp took Frodo, and he cried out, biting his lip. He shivered, whether from the cold or shock, he could not tell.

Aragorn pushed Frodo's cloak aside until the mound of Frodo's belly was quite evident. When Merry and Pippin tried to crowd in, Aragorn's voice was sharp. "Gandalf, help me to have space. I must have privacy here."

Gandalf shuttled the younger hobbits away, though Sam could not be budged. He sat quietly on his knees in a nest of snow, his mouth pursed as if torn between fierce loyalty and disapproval.

Aragorn lifted Frodo's shirt and vest, revealing a bare, rounded belly.

"He'll get cold, Strider," Sam said.

"It will just be for a moment," Strider said gently. "I simply do not know how I could have missed this." Aragorn's voice became grim as he placed his hand over the belly, feeling for life inside. "Frodo, you should have spoken to me. In no way should you have walked over that rough terrain unaided. Either Boromir or I would gladly have carried you."

"You are already burdened," Frodo said. Another cramp took him, and he breathed rapidly through his teeth, biting back a groan. Something warm and sticky seeped between his legs.

"I could have carried more," Sam said. "Mr. Strider's right. You should never have gone on this long without help. Not bearing such a heavy pack, anyways."

"What was I to do?" Frodo said with sudden vehemence, thoroughly mortified. He could see that Legolas and Boromir were trying to peer at them from outside the shelter. Legolas had probably overheard everything anyway. Frodo let out an angry sigh. He could not bear the whole fellowship knowing about his condition. Not even Sam knew about Halbarad. He had told nobody, had buried the pain deep inside.

"I cannot understand what Elrond was thinking, what folly!" Aragorn was flushed with rage as he tore athelas leaves apart in his hand. "He should have rid you of one or both of these burdens."

Frodo gasped, his eyes widening in shocked fury. "How can you say such a dreadful thing?"

Aragorn froze, and his face softened. "Oh, Frodo, I am sorry."

Frodo's eyes closed. "What does it matter. We're both likely to perish anyway."

"No…" Aragorn tugged at Frodo's breeches until he pulled them down just enough so that he could slide his hand in between Frodo's legs. "No…I should be brought to shame for what I have said. If by life or death I promised to protect you, and I will. And that goes for the child as well." Aragorn met Frodo's gaze. "I know by which union this came about, and he is also a dear friend."

Frodo's cheeks heated, and his heart lurched several times. Such a mixture hit him – the humiliation of having his most private life revealed, that Aragorn knew Halbarad and would perhaps know how to contact him, and most of all, that Halbarad might yet come to find out about the child.

"Oh," was all he could say.

"You miss him greatly, do you not?" Aragorn asked softly.

"I do, though I truly doubt he returns those feelings." Frodo tried to mask his hurt, but his voice sounded raw. The sticky wet dribbled down his inner thighs, and his heart picked up panicked speed. "Is that blood I feel on my legs?"

Aragorn did not answer as his hand probed. Frodo felt rough fingers over his bottom, and then inside, probing and twisting. Frodo writhed in pain as a sharper, more insistent cramp took him.

"Careful," he hissed at Aragorn. "Careful, you're making it worse…" He did not know whether that was true, but he knew that rough treatment was bound to force the babe out.

Aragorn withdrew his hand and sighed. His eyes were closed and he held his brow in one hand.

"What is it?" Frodo asked.

"Oh…" Aragorn opened his eyes and gave Frodo an apologetic smile. "I am sorry for frightening you. I think the baby will be all right as long as you face no rough treatment in the days to come."

Frodo shut his eyes in relief. The baby would live. He did not know how he would bear it or how it would fare – how either of them would fare – on this journey.

"What worries me is that I cannot guarantee that no hardship will occur in the coming weeks. We have a hard rode before us."

"I know," Frodo said.

Boromir stormed into the shelter. "Aragorn, I must insist upon knowing – " He stopped, gaping in shock at the sight of the hobbit's round belly, Aragorn wiping the last of the blood between his thighs.

"I asked you to remain outside," Aragorn said curtly, pulling Frodo's breeches up again. "Can you not see he needs treatment?"

"Oh," Boromir said, eyes wide and filled with wonder. "There have been tales of such…such strange matters among the elves…" He seemed barely able to take in breath.

Merry and Pippin quickly crowded in. "Cousin Frodo!" Merry scolded. "Why in the world did you not tell us!" Pippin looked admiringly at the bulging belly.

"Is this a common way with hobbits?" Boromir asked.

"Of course not," Merry said in scorn. He fell to his knees beside Frodo and kissed his brow. Frodo squeezed his hand as a mild cramp took him. He fully trusted Strider, that the worst was over, that both he and the babe would be spared the horror of birth in this wretched snow-filled landscape.

"Well, he is mostly a Brandybuck," Pippin said.

"He has a fair amount of Took in him, too," Merry pointed out.

"And here I thought he'd somehow managed to put on weight with all the Elvish cooking in Master Elrond's house," Pippin said.

Sam bristled. "Leave him be, both of you. He needs to rest."

Frodo felt immense relief. All this time he had barely managed to hide his condition, when it was truly this easy. His cousins barely questioned it, still adored him as always. He did not need to explain Halbarad.

Gandalf knelt beside Frodo, tilting a cup to his lips. "Drink this, lad. It is miruvor, a cordial of Imladris. It will strengthen you and rid you of the pain."

Frodo sipped the liquid, and at once, warm strength flowed through his limbs. Aragorn pulled Frodo's cloak so that it covered him as warmly as possible.

"My friend," he said softly so that the others could not hear. "Halbarad spoke often of you, and with such pain in his heart." Frodo watched him, breathlessly waiting for him to continue. "When I met you in Bree at last, I could scarce believe I was meeting the hobbit who had stolen my dear companion's heart."

"But he left me," Frodo whispered.

"Yes," Aragorn said, with pain deep in his eyes. "We all must leave those we love in these dark times." He shook his head, waking himself from faraway thoughts. "Should we survive our ordeals, who can tell what will happen."

Frodo closed his eyes, so drowsy Aragorn's voice had turned into a meaningless hum. He could still see Halbarad's face, dark with agony, the last night together. Perhaps under a different sun they would again meet, and together, with the child, they could form a life together.

END


End file.
